


We're Going To Go Where It Is Warm

by phalangewrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cutesy, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Superpowers, Teenage Dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 00:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangewrites/pseuds/phalangewrites
Summary: Reader, a novice superhero from Queens and the BFF to Peter Parker and his squad, goes along on holiday with Peter and his boss at the internship, Mr. Stark, to New Jersey for the summer.





	We're Going To Go Where It Is Warm

**Author's Note:**

> I based the story around the song '[Sun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pXpk66llwLw)', by Cub Sport.

Days off came rarely, especially since the rise of crime around your home, and, well, being a teen hero in the neighbourhood wasn’t always a great thing. You had other things to do other than save people’s lives as your superhero alter-ego. You had homework! A life! But you didn’t mind, mostly.

You knew Peter since Ned knocked heads with you in an unfortunate physical education class, and his best friend came to rescue. Ever since then, you joined their trio with MJ, and together, your quartet ruled the patch under the bleachers where the old group of seniors used to sit. It was after that P.E. class when your Mom told you that you weren’t exactly a normal kid, and that your father was a legendary superhero. You didn’t know who or cared about that Namor guy and went on with life. But that summer break, he appeared, and your life changed.

That was last year.

The day after school let out for the summer, your Mom handed you a packed suitcase, a brand-new Stark phone, and a wan smile. “I’ve made some arrangements,” she said as she handed you the suitcase. “Since you’ve been so good at managing both parts of your life, _and_ getting good grades, I made some calls.”

“What do you mean, calls?” you frowned. “Are you sending me away to Dad again? I thought he only came out of the ocean for, like, mega important stuff, like sixteenth birthday parental revelations and apocalypses.”

She laughed. “No, hon, not to him.” Your Mom took a deep breath, and, added, “I’ve made some preparations with May Parker, your friend Peter’s aunt – she and I decided that you are both old enough to go –,”

Your eyes wide, you gaped. “Wait, _what_?” you cried out, “Last week I wasn’t old enough to walk home from the library after dark!”

“– on a trip away with Mr. Stark, Peter’s mentor, along, of course.” She concluded, passing you the phone to your other hand. “He’s agreed to have you along, as Peter’s plus one, as he’s taking care of business in a conference about something in Atlantic City. May said she’s so excited to have Peter shadowing Mr. Stark – one day, that boy will do great things!”

“New Jersey? A holiday?” you backtracked, blinking. “This is a lot to take in.”

You Mom nodded and busied herself with tidying up the shoe rack in the foyer. “It’s okay, hon. I’m overwhelmed too. My daughter, my _________, off with her best friend on to Atlantic City. Remember to be safe – you know how to dial 911, and my number –,”

“I’m seventeen, Mom!” you protested. “I’m not a kid!”

She waved you off. “Ah, but you’ll always be my little girl.” She glanced to her wristwatch, and added, “You have an hour until Mr. Stark’s car comes for you, if you want to pack a book, or shower.”

Your jaw dropped at that. “An hour? Geez, Mom, thanks for the head start!”

That led to where you were now, sitting beside Peter in the back of a stretch limousine. It’s apparently how Mr. Stark got around, most of the time, which, to you, seemed crazy. But then again, you earned minimum wage flipping burgers, and Mr. Stark practically made cash from his cash; it could be said that you weren’t cut from the same stone. It was no matter at all, because the man sat opposite you and Peter, flicking through a Buzzfeed quiz on his phone.

“My Mom said you were taking Peter with you to a conference, in Atlantic City?” you said, breaking the awkward silence that hung around.

Mr. Stark looked up from his phone, giving you a winning smile. “Your Mom would be correct, _________.” He turned to Peter, and tossing his phone to him, added, “Why don’t you show your friend where we’ll be staying?”

Peter nodded, tapping at the screen. “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

When you glanced over Peter’s shoulder, you blanched at what you saw. “Wow! Um, okay, that’s cool.”

“Cool?” Mr. Stark repeated, and craning his neck, looked to the driver of the fancy car. “You hear that Happy? I picked somewhere cool. I’m down with the kids these days.” He said, with a wide grin. “Anyhow, it’s a science conference to do with the up and coming tech on the East Coast.”

“In…New Jersey?” you asked.

“Yeah. We’re going to go where it’s warm.” Mr.  Stark chuckled. “Last year was Washington D.C., next year will be Rhode Island.” He gives you another winning smile, and adds, “I’m one of the leading sponsors for the event, and because of that, I get a lot of say in the goings-on, and, I can have Peter here follow me around to see how it’s done.”

You nod, looking at your hands in your lap. “That sounds awesome, I mean, for you both. I’m not really into technology –,”

“_________’s really into marine biology, Mr. Stark,” Peter pipes up, suddenly. “She got first place in class last semester.”

Mr. Stark raises a brow. “Is that so?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah. I don’t know, it’s just something I’m into. I don’t get the other science much, but biology? It just clicks for me.” You look to Peter, and then your hands. “It’s uh, a family thing.”

Mr. Stark turns to the divider that hides you three from the driver. “Happy, don’t forget to make a memo to get Ms. _________ tickets to the Atlantic City Aquarium when I’m in the conference with Peter.”

There’s a mumbled reply, and after that, Peter hands back Mr. Stark his phone, and you busy yourself with sharing earbuds with Peter and his playlist (mostly songs recommended by MJ that “don’t suck”), and the rest of the two-hour drive to New Jersey is practically and perfectly silent.

* * *

Atlantic City is nice. It’s a bit different from Queens, but, it’s a change, and, since it’s as good as a holiday, and you are on one, it’s fantastic. The week before the conference, you and Peter get up to shenanigans as usual. You watch a movie at the local cinema, using Mr. Stark’s credit card to pay for overpriced popcorn and a slushy to share while you watch the latest action movie. Another day, when Mr. Stark is busy on the phone to his fiancée/the CEO of Stark Industries, you and Peter buy sundaes that drip down your arms in the heat. You take so many photos on your new phone of Peter in odd tourist poses that it uses up all your memory. He records a video of you chugging hot sauce from a restaurant, complete with teary eyes, and the ten bucks you won.

But today, Peter left with Mr. Stark after breakfast, and when Happy had them dropped off, he came back and took you to the Aquarium. It wasn’t a _bad_ day. You saw lots of cool animals, and even got to watch the stingrays flop around like ravioli in their tank. But there wasn’t Peter, and there wasn’t an adult to skirt around, because Happy stayed in the car the whole time, and it made you wish you were back home. With your Mom. Or in your superhero suit stitched from old swimsuit costumes, fighting crime.

There’s another two hours left until Mr. Stark and Peter finish up at the conference, and instead of heading back to the hotel, you have Happy drive you to the nearest beach. He doesn’t ask a thing, and you’re glad of it. You leave your cell in the car, and your shoes, and when you walk over the pavement, your feet sting from the heat. But when you make it to the sand, you feel a relief in the coolness of it, and when your toes touch the water’s edge, oh, _yes_. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the contact of water like this, since you’ve felt your abilities stirring up beneath your skin.

You close your eyes for a minute, picturing yourself in a better superhero suit. Perhaps a little older, and moved out to a place near the seaside, where you’re surrounded by your element. You just picture Peter in a ridiculous farmer’s hat when you hear a cry out, a plea for help, and your eyes snap open.

Out in the waves, is a child. They’re far out, further than they should be in the water, waving their hands for help. You look around you, and see the beach is mostly deserted, apart from beachcombers, and the odd dog walker. And the kid, whose arm is getting smaller and smaller, further and further away from you every second you take to deliberate your actions.

At once, you run toward the water. Before your Dad showed up, you were like anyone else in the water. Buoyant. Clumsy. Now, you had an almost supernatural approach to it – like now, how your feet still touched the ocean floor as you ran toward the child in danger. You had a precision that made you sharp, had you on your toes. You could see in the water, hear in it, just like on land. When you see the young child, you spring to the surface of the water, and gather them in your arms. It’s a young boy, his hair plastered to his face, his face turning red in exertion, and blue in defeat. But in less than a minute, you are back to the land, using your abilities to rid his lungs of swallowed water.

“Are you okay?” you ask as he coughs the rest of it up.

He nods, eyes wide. “Thank you for saving me.”

A dog walker runs toward you both, poodle in tow. “Jeremy! I told you not to go too far in –thank goodness you’re alright!” She fusses over him, towelling him off with her jacket. She looks to you, holding her son close to her. “Thank you for saving my son.”

You shrug her praise off, explaining yourself. “It’s nothing, ma’am, but you should know, it’s not his fault. There’s a rip out there, and he was stuck in the middle of it.” You add, “I’d keep an eye on him for the rest of the day, to be sure.”

She huffs, gathering her son closer. “I’ll be sure to do that. How can I possibly thank you –,”

“_________!” you hear Peter call your name, and looking up, you see him running toward you across the sand. As he nears, he sees your state, and the child, and gasps. “_________, you’re all wet! What happened –,”

The woman explains everything to him, and you notice Mr. Stark walking toward you. His strides are long, and he’s still wearing his formal shoes, even on the sand. But when he nears you, he takes off his funky sunglasses, and gives you a smirk.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asks, gesturing to the water.

“Swimming?” you blink, trying to cover up for your fast heartbeat, “I started when I was about five –,”

Mr. Stark shakes his head. “Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there, Ms. _________. I’m Tony Stark, _and_ Iron Man. When I see someone do something extraordinary like saving that kid, I know that that someone has abilities.” He gave you a signature smile, and added, “I’m incredibly impressed. I’m guessing Peter doesn’t know about this…?”

You look behind you, where Peter is chatting to the boy on the sand about Harry Potter. A small feeling wells in your stomach, and it isn’t nice. Sadness? Regret? Whatever it is, you feel bad. “I just want to help people out.”

“I’m glad my hunch was right about you – I mean, you are the hero from Queens that uses water, right? Wears a suit made from old wetsuits and a balaclava?”

“My Mom didn’t organise me to come on this trip, did she?” you ask him.

Mr. Stark shakes his head. “Oh no, she did. I just pulled some strings. All of them, really. I talked to her about it, and it’s settled – I’m going to take you on as a summer intern, if you want to, of course.” He looks to Peter, and adds, “I know you both don’t know it, but you need to talk out what you’ve got unsaid between you.” It’s then Mr. Stark goes to the woman, and Peter drifts toward you.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he intones. “What just happened?”

You shrug. “It’ll make more sense if I tell you everything. Mr. Stark knows this secret I have, and I kind of have to tell you about it, because, well, you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you because of me not saying it, and I –,”

“I have a secret, too,” Peter says.

You blink. “You do?”

He nods. “I’ve been keeping it for so long, too. I’m sorry.” He adds, “How about we say our secrets to each other, together? So that they won’t be secrets anymore.”

“At once?” you wonder. “Like they do on TV?”

“Yeah.” Peter agrees. “Okay, on three. One, two –,”

“I’m a superhero!” you blurt out.

“I really like you!” he cries. You pause, and so does Peter. “You’re a superhero?” he repeats, voice smaller, incredulous. “Wait, _no_ way! You’re Gusher! I’ve seen you around the city!”

You pale. “You called me _Gusher_?”

Peter shakes his head. “No, Ned did, but nobody had a better name for you at the time, and it stuck.” He pauses, and adds, “Can we address what I said?”

You raise a brow, looking at your best friend. “That you like me?” you look at Peter and laugh. “Pete, it’s been kind of obvious this whole time. And even if it wasn’t MJ vents about your feelings about me _to_ me all the time.”

“Oh no.” he says, head in his hands. “Oh _no_.”

“On the contrary,” you say, taking your friend’s hands away from hiding his pretty face. “I happen to like you very, very much. And, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to kiss you. And organise to do this trip every summer.”

Peter beams. Yes,” he says, grinning. “Yes to all.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests, find me on Tumblr at @susiephalange, or [@phalangewrites](https://phalangewrites.tumblr.com/request_conditions) ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


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